


A Thin Invisible Line

by KnightNight7203



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightNight7203/pseuds/KnightNight7203
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They alternate sides depending on the day. The effect culminates into a sort of bizarre dance." In which Jack and Katherine struggle internally about their feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thin Invisible Line

They walk a thin invisible line, they know they do. And they alternate sides, too, depending on the day.

The effect culminates into a sort of bizarre dance, made up of a boy who is always surrounded by brotherly figures he loves to gently push around or whose hair he’s constantly messing up gently but who’s never been looked at twice by any sort of female, and a girl who has always kept strictly to herself but has longed for affection since her mother died years before and her father pushed her away just recently. He can’t keep his hands to himself but is terrified of how she makes him feel. She knows she is constrained by propriety but wants to reassure herself he’s there.

Some days, in the office, Katherine is the one who’s distant, keeping her arms and legs firmly to herself as she sits in her chair, fingers moving quickly across the keys of the typewriter. When Jack comes over from his own desk, where his colored pencils are lined up painstakingly and his latest sketches are smoothed over the wooden surface, she shrinks into herself. His fingers find her hair anyway, tracing patterns on her neck with his artist hands as he brushes the strands aside. She finds herself blushing when she meets the eyes of her coworkers. They look away quickly, even though his fingers are just worrying gently at her collar.

He’s learned by now not to catch her fingers in his or wrap an arm around her side if they pass friends of her family – or, heaven help them both, her father – in the street. He knows it’s not that she’s embarrassed of him – on the contrary, she drags him to countless social functions just to prove that nothing anyone says can change her feelings for him in even the slightest way. He thinks it’s more of a society thing. While she doesn’t care if there are rules about their relationship, because Katherine Pulitzer does what she wants, thank you very much, she is painfully aware of the rules governing how _anyone_ acts in a relationship. He respects her enough to respect that, too. Most of the time. When he remembers, anyway.

Other days, when some of the older boys are hovering around them in the dimly-lit restaurant where they sometimes meet, Jack is the one who avoids even eye contact, preferring to pull the littler kids onto his lap and swipe food off of Crutchie’s plate playfully when he’s not looking than even glance in her direction. She scoots subtly closer, their legs brushing under the table, but he pretends not to notice, even if his smile does brighten slightly. They both know if he so much as flushes a light pink, he’ll be teased for days. And as funny as she finds that, the teasing sometimes becomes more serious, and then they’re left awkwardly pondering what any of this means, or where it might be going.

It gets much worse if they ever encounter the Delancies or one of the other hired thugs she knows still terrify him. Sometimes he’ll go as far as to cross to the opposite side of the street as her, and their narrowed eyes follow him suspiciously but never focus on her, the neatly-dressed lady she’s sure they think is far too good to be with him anyway. She screams at him the first time he does this, ranting how she was scared to death they’d follow him into an alley and kill him and she wouldn’t even know, because she’d lost track of his newsboy-hat-clad head in the crowded street. He just murmurs quietly that he’d never want to put her in danger, and she slumps against him, the fight leaving her in an instant. This time, he lets her hug him, holding her tightly to reassure her he’s okay, they’re okay. For sure.

There are days when neither of them do more than smile awkwardly at the other, both too wrapped up in the absurdity of their chance meetings and unusual relationship to even think about doing more. Despite Crutchie’s efforts to land the two next to each other on the sofa and the annoyed eye rolls they get from the boys who are tired of the act already, they don’t move closer to each other than an arms length apart, and their eyes barely meet, often only by accident when they do. These are the times when their seemingly endless well of conversation topics mysteriously dries up, and neither of them makes the jokes they normally would due to the sudden fear that the other won’t find it funny. Katherine doesn’t go home until late anyway, even during the uncomfortable silences. Any time with Jack is time well spent, even if there are a dozen smaller newsboys between them and they haven’t had one conversation all night.

And then there are days when they can’t keep their hands to themselves, either of them. These are the days they live for, Katherine nestled in Jack’s arms on the roof of the newsboys’ lodging house as the sun slowly sinks below the skyline of the city, their lips meeting for what was supposed to be a short goodbye peck but ends up being a passionate kiss that has passersby clearing their throats even though Jack and Katherine could care less. There’s no shame on these days, even if Jack has to force himself to stop outside her door before he does something he might regret later. He just reminds himself of the secret stash of money he has at the lodging house hidden under the floorboards, the paychecks from his new job with the paper saved up with the thought of the shiny ring in the jeweler’s in mind, and tells himself he can wait a little longer.


End file.
